Star Purple
by NeoDracula
Summary: Finally giving up on Ash, Jesse and James settle down and start a family. However, Giovanni doesn't stand for desertion. And his wrath his deadly. With his best friends killed, Meowth takes Jesse and James's son, Frank, and flees to the city, where the two live out their lives as local thieves. But Frank has a dream... to defeat Ash and become the new Pokemon master.


Every kid had a dream. Although Frank was raised on the streets of Saffron City by a talking Pokemon, he was no different. He wanted to be the very best... the best there ever was.

He wanted to catch 'em all. He wanted to rise above his limits... and if he worked hard enough...

"Maybe... maybe I can beat you, Ash. Then I'd be the champ." said the young boy to the television behind the glass window. Frank gingerly placed his hand up against the glass...

"Move it, ya little idiot." hissed a busy man as he pushed Frank out of his way.

Frank fell to the sidewalk below, scratching his palms as he caught himself.

The boy opened his eyes and saw his reflection. He had soft, nearly feminine features, which his feline friend would often mockingly claim he had inherited from his father. His face was caked in dirt, and his clothes were practically rags. His hair was long, wispy, purple, and in desperate need of a wash.

However, his bright, green eyes shown through his outer grime. He wanted to be the champ, for Arceus' sake, and that's what he was going to be. He was tired of being treated like dirt. He wanted to extend his reach out of the filth of the city, and blast off to the stars above.

First, however, he would have to convince Persian.

* * *

"Where've been, kiddo?" asked the cat Pokemon, not looking up from the charm it was polishing.

"Oh! Uh... you know, Persian... out doing... stuff." replied Frank, lying to his caretaker.

"What kinda stuff?"

"Stuff-stuff."

"Hmm. Interesting. Well, I stole ya some grub. It's in dat brown bag over there."

Frank and Persian lived in an abandoned Pokemon center, feeding themselves by stealing whatever they could get their hands on. Defiantly not the picturesque model of a trainer and his partner.

"Persian... there's... something... I wanted to ask you..." stuttered Frank, taking out his sandwich and gently taking a nibble, his nerves preventing him from taking a full bite.

"Shoot, champ." replied the Persian, finally picking the charm up with it's tail and placing it on it's forehead. Unlike most Persian's, Frank's partner had retained his charm from back when he was still a Meowth. Neither was sure exactly how that was.

"I...I..."

"C'mon, kiddo, spit it out!"

"IWANNABEAPOKEMONTRAINER!" quickly stuttered the young pauper, his cheeks flushed red.

Persian stared at his young friend for almost a full minute. The tension could be cut down like a small tree.

"Damn... I was afraid this might happen."

Frank looked confused. Persian went on, "Ya've gone and inherited your parent's aspirations. They wanted to be Giovanni's top lieutenants, ya know? Spent most of their lives, trying to capture Ash's Pikachu, ever since the kid was just startin' out. Hell, I was by their side the whole time. But they gave that up... and look where their live's work got 'em... they never went anywhere in Team Rocket, and when we all settled down and started a family, that bastard Giovanni took it all away... in his eyes, we betrayed him..."

Frank could sadness bubble up in his chest as Persian's eyes began to water. A single tear rolled down one of his whiskers as he went on, "Are ya not happy with the simple little life we have here?! I already lost your parents, I'm not goin' and riskin' your life on some journey 'cause of some silly little dream!"

Frank broke down. Tears fell off of the 12 year old's cheeks as he screamed at his old friend, "No, I'm not happy! I don't want to be some little street urchin for the rest of my life! I want to be the champ! Hundreds of kids go out and become Pokemon trainers... and... and... you can't hold me back because you're afraid of losing me! If you won't come with me, I'LL GO AND BEAT THE CHAMP MYSELF, WITH MY NEW PARTNER!"

The purple-haired youth spun around, preparing to take off. But suddenly, he felt something grab onto the back of his shirt.

He turned and saw Persian holding onto his shirt him with his jaws. Persian released his grip and looked up at his deceased best friend's son, "Frank... I'm sorry. I won't hold you back... but yer not goin' alone. We're goin' together."

Frank sniffled, "T-Thank you, P-Persian!"

Persian smiled up at his young friend, "Now, let's go out and make Jesse and James proud of ya."

* * *

**Two notes-**

**Frank is named so because Jesse and James are named after the infamous outlaw, 'Jesse James'. Jesse Jame's brother was 'Frank James'.**

**Persian still has the charm on his forehead from when he was a Meowth for a good reason. I'll explain it later in the story.**


End file.
